Corpse Bride
by ThePurpleViolin
Summary: A suicidal Ib barely has the handle of things. She's vowed that she will change, and yet things doesn't get any better. But things DO change. A friend from the past suddenly appears dead and tells her he wants to make her his wife...his corpse bride.
1. Red Rose

~0~

She violently woke up—scared half to death.

Ib wiped the sweat that was dripping incessantly from her forehead and neck, muttering curses under her breath. This has happened to her for the third time tonight. Her heart beat was at the point of breaking out through her thin chest, and she grasped it—to calm it or to rip it out.

Slipping her legs out of her blanket, she went through her bathroom door and flipped the lights open. She was still out of breath.

_Damn_

Ib slowly looked at herself in the mirror…

_Ugly_

_Skinny shit_

_You look dead—_

_I might as well be…_

Reaching for the water tap, her fingers closed around the scissors in the counter instead… _Every_ _time_ it's the same conversation in her head. She resisted cutting herself again, the last time she did her parents had cried and cried to her…those wails and moans that were even uglier than she.

Ib gripped the scissor handle.

_Snip_

_Snip_

_Snip_

Strands of her long brown hair fell to the ground. She was going to carve out a new image for herself. The result was a rough hewn shoulder-length hair.

Satisfied, she dropped the scissors and closed the lights. She shed her clothing and stepped inside the shower.

Ice cold water ran down on her body, cleansing her. Her soul felt lighter.

~1~

"**Happy birthday Ib!**" Her parents brought cake and cheer to her room. Ib cuddled further into the cool darkness of her blanket.

_It was her birthday? _She doesn't keep track of that kind of stuff.

"You've turned 17, honey!" Ib's dad placed the cake on her empty study table, setting up a plate and a fork.

"You cut your hair darling? It's cute." Her mom ran her fingers through her hair strands. Ib bit her lip tight, drawing out blood.

Her dad placed one candle on her cake and lit it. "Make a wish Ib!"

"_What's the point?_" Her lips moved numbly—like thin graying shells washed up on the beach.

"Well, you can wish for something to be _better_ dear," her mother softly cooed.

That statement enticed her, for a second it made her _believe _on wishful thinking again. It actually got her to care about her birthday now.

_Stupid_

"_Then..._ _I wish for my nightmares to disappear. _**All of it**." Ib stood up, walked over to her cake, and blew out the candle.

That might as well have been the most idiotic thing she's ever done, because '_hoping_'…it crushes you later on.

_And I taught myself better than to be like that…_

~2~

Later on at night she got a call on her cell phone. It was 12:00 AM. Her phone didn't stopped ringing until finally she answered it.

"_Meet me at Lotus Castle, and happy late birthday." _

It was a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. The number was not however.

Ib rubbed her tired eyes and dressed herself in plain red t-shirt and jeans—not bothering to fix her hair or wash her face.

She took her cell phone and her dad's old military jacket and went out the door.

Twenty minutes later, Ib came up to the mysterious voice's appointed destination: "Lotus Castle".

Lotus Castle was an outdoor restaurant with a traditional Japanese garden theme. It was the local tourist attraction, with many foreigners stopping by during the daytime. It was nighttime and obviously the place was deserted. No one was around, and only the soft rippling of the Koi fish pond brought any presence of life.

_Really, you'd think people nowadays would be a little less cliché._ Ib grabbed her long, arm-length dagger from the side of her right boot and sliced it deftly at the cold, steel air.

_Just show me your ugly bastard face already!_

A shadow flicked swiftly at the side of her eyes, and she jumped back slightly as someone from behind grabbed her and hugged her.

The arms braced around her made her drop her dagger. "_No need for a weapon now, it's only an old friend._" She felt the man's moist lips softly brush past her ear. It sent goose bumps to crawl up and down her spine.

"An _'old friend' _huh, sorry, I never had any friends," Ib harshly whispered.

The man ignored her and instead rolled down her jacket sleeve, examining the cuts she'd inflicted on herself the past month. His voice lowered, "These cuts should not be here."

"Ha, so you're just a random guy that knows my number, knows my birthday, and so happens to be a friend. That's hilarious." She giggled, which startled him for a second. Once he dropped his guard, Ib wretched free and turned around to face her mysterious caller.

It was weird… She _knew_ him.

_Crap, isn't he the one in my nightmares?! _She repressed the thought.

"Who the hell are you?" Ib screamed. She picked up her dagger from the ground and pointed it straight to his chest.

"I'm not someone who's dangerous. Just thought to meet you privately and give you a gift." He waved his hand in the air casually, as if that will help prove his innocence.

"And what the hell is it? Why at this time?" She inched closer, keeping the knife's aim at the dead center.

He sighed, a heavy look on his eyes.

"I've been watching you, and you're getting better. So for that I commend you."

He stepped up, and grabbed her shoulders…passing right through her dagger.

"_I'm dead, and you're not. Good job._"

Her head felt light, and all of sudden the lights were out.

~3~

The first thing her subconscious mind locked onto was the night sky. The little points of light up there were like glowing _cuts_ in the darkness.

_God must have loved cutting at the sky for fun… There are billions of them in there. _

She felt a hand touch her forehead—she blinked.

"Glad it only takes you ten-minutes to recover. I'm sorry to surprise you; sometimes I forget I'm..._not solid_."

Ib sat up, feeling extremely calm. Her military jacket had been blanketed around her, and she realized her pillow had been his lap.

"I think I know you, but when I try to remember… I only get the bad memories." She shivered, and she wrapped herself snugly with her dad's oversized jacket.

"Isn't this restaurant beautiful? I picked this as our meeting spot because I really liked it." He stood up and walked past her, absentmindedly disregarding her statement.

Ib was trying to confide to him—whatever help it may be—and yet he flat-out switch topics like talking to someone about your problems is some buffet you can choose your apple pies from. She felt her anger rose up, and watched him nonchalantly play around the Koi pond.

He turned back to see her upset, and he stopped. "Relax Ib, truth is none of us wants to remember. So please, let's not mention anything about the _past_."

To make up for the unpleasant start of their meeting, he produced a rose from the inside of his coat—a beautiful, healthy red rose. "For the birthday girl," he sweetly said, handing her the rose.

She pinched its stem delicately, hesitantly taking it from him. "Thank you. Is this the 'gift' you mentioned?"

_What a weird guy… Well, he __**is**__ dead. _

"There's more if you're willing to stay." He walked towards her, boots clacking against the cobblestone path. "There wouldn't be any hard feelings on my part if you didn't."

She shrugged, "I came here lured by a stranger on my birthday—I was planning on staying."

He smiled, "I s'pose you wouldn't remember my name. My name's Garry, at your service." Garry bowed down, which Ib reciprocated.

There was a silence that drifted, and after awhile Garry resumed conversation, "While you were asleep—and I don't mean this to sound anything other than what it is—I took the liberty of examining the _changes_ in you."

She coughed to get his attention. "Um, it sounded exactly what it sounded like."

For a second he looked at her blankly, then his mind did a rewind, and now he's blushing like an idiot.

"I—I didn't took off your clothes or anything! I—I only took your jacket to blanket you with some heat, I didn't even look at, umm…" Out of pure embarrassment he ceased to talk and quickly went over the Koi pond again, dashing his hands left and right on the smooth, water surface.

Ib was amused, a tight smile fitting on her lips. "You know for a dead guy, you're pretty funny."

He mumbled something, obviously still perturbed.

"I meant it as a joke, Garry!" she exclaimed loudly. This got his attention, and snapped him back to normal—or as normal as he can get around her.

"It's not funny. Besides I wouldn't do that to you in a million years—I'm…" he abruptly stopped.

"_No longer older than you…" _

She was confused for the first time tonight. "What do you mean?"

"I'm 17; you're 17, which means we're the same age. _Fun fact!_ The dead doesn't age."

_It bothered him that they were the same age? What's up with that?_

"Doesn't bother me," she simply replied.

"**It does to me!**" he yelled, suddenly livid. "Means you're gonna get older and older, and I'll be the same teenage boy who died back there who couldn't keep our promise!" He gripped the top of his scalp, right where an odd patch of his hair was darker in color.

"What promise? I thought we wouldn't mention anything about the past." Ib stood up on her feet, letting out a long, tired yawn.

"You're right…I'm sorry. It's your birthday and I actually wanted to celebrate it with you. Guess I'm not exactly a fun person to hang around with—being dead and all." He let his shoulders slump, folding over and looking as if to bury himself in a mental shell.

Garry looked so pitiful that Ib felt like she had to cheer him up.

"C'mon, being dead has its perks. You can stalk someone and not get caught about it—you know if you're that closet perv type."

"That doesn't exactly make me feel better, but alright, I'll take it."

There's always a first at everything. 'Comforting someone' is now officially checked off in her _Things-To-Do_ list.

"Hey, I have a question. It's a _personal _question, so I understand if you don't want to answer it."

"No, please go right ahead. It's your birthday, and it's the least I could do."

She took a deep breath, "Ok, so how exactly did you die?"

Garry wasn't exactly surprised at the question; he's been preparing an answer for it long before he even called her. Nonetheless, it still took him some time to compose himself.

"_I wasn't as brave as you_. I killed myself afterwards. I regretted it soon after I saw you again, already as a friggin ghost." Garry sighed, plucking up some stiff grass with indignity. "Sometimes I wished that I didn't cried as much over the little things, that instead I told to myself _'Hang on, there's better days ahead'_, but I couldn't see that with so many tears hindering my sight." He rolled over, blocking his eyes with his arm.

"_I was a coward." _

Her lips formed into a snarl involuntarily, "DON'T SAY THAT! YOU'RE NOT A COWARD! YOU'RE MORE THAN THAT—BECAUSE IF I COULD FIGHT IT YOU CAN TOO!" Ib's body was shaking, she was furious at him!

He gave a crooked smile, "I think it's a little bit too late to fight it now—for me at least. You're brave Ib, and I wish I had more of that spunk."

"That's the most ridiculous excuse I've ever heard. 'I wish this', 'I was a coward' that. All you're telling me is that you didn't have enough of a backbone, and you've wasted your life being content with just _hoping_!"

Her feet walked up to him, stomping the ground. _"I thought I told you to meet me again—ALIVE!" _

She slapped him. No more 'no talking about the past' bullcrap; _a promise was a promise_.

_That_, he did not anticipate.

"Thank you." He touched his cheeks where it stung. It woke him up, and he felt relieved to finally be given some judgment.

"You're a spineless fool."

She turned away from him, and he immediately reached out for her, gripping her by her fingers.

"You don't hate me?"

"How can you hate someone who's just plain stupid? It's like trying to punch a puppy."

He smiled softly. Such a bold statement ought to have hurt him, but he knew better. Ib cares in her own, _unique_ way.

"What if the puppy was only lonely, and hungered for love?"

She shifted the balance of her feet, her fingers still anchored by his hand.

"Then maybe you would have found it if you searched long enough."

"I did..."

"Killing yourself doesn't help."

"I know… _It's_ _you_."

His confession disarmed her, made her head spin in circles in under a second.

She broke away from his grip.

_What the hell have I been saying to him? Who am I to lecture him about being stupid? I'm no better! _

"_Could you…_ Could you kiss me?" he asked in a gentle whisper. It was in a way that if she denied it she will be literally taking a scissor and cutting through his soul—figuratively.

"I'm dead, so what will you lose if you kissed me?"

That next statement irritated her. _Does he always have to be so defensive and sarcastic?_

"You're right…so if I lean in like this, it would feel nothing—right?" She bent down, splaying her arms around his thin shoulders. She craned her neck at an angle that a little bit of her perfume touched his nose.

"No—I, I can still feel you…" he hesitantly replied. His lips almost nuzzled her neck.

_Doesn't that mean my warmth could still reach you?_

She nodded, staring into his eyes. "Death doesn't give you an excuse either. Be strong and _move on_."

Ib didn't know how to approach kissing with a ghost (she didn't even know how to with the living), and she merely followed her instincts. She parted her lips and closed her eyes. Thankfully, Garry wasn't a complete idiot and he just took her lips in without any awkward movements.

There was a spark in there, which was lit by the touch of their lips and fully ignited from the _inside_. A firework of sorts that jumbled up all circuitry that usually governed their thoughts and was dominated by only one feeling: _affection_.

When they parted for air, it's as if they charged the particles around them.

"Kissing a ghost ain't so bad…" Ib murmured.

"For your first kiss it was _ok_," Garry replied coolly.

She scowled, "Don't make me regret it."

The tension was indeed firing up between the two of them.

Ib quickly stood up, pausing to take a minute and reevaluate her thoughts. In the meantime she gathered her dad's jacket and her red rose from the grass.

_Did I—did I felt something in that kiss? I—I have all these emotions, it's confusing! _She rolled the rose's stem in-between her index finger and thumb.

"You'd have made a good wife—_witty_, _independent_, and _brave_…"

"_Me?_ I'd never be a wife."

"A good wife to _me_ I mean," he rephrased. "I mean, just analyze it! I have the opposite traits, and yours fit it into mine like a puzzle."

"Yeah, I can be your _Corpse Bride_," Ib sarcastically remarked.

"_Ha…_if only." The look in his eyes was that of a world submerged into some fantastical dream.

"You serious?"

"I wish I wasn't."

"You're utterly hopeless! You want me to die?"

"No, no. It's just, when you do die—_many, many years later_—I want us to marry."

She closed her eyes, keeping the tide of her feelings at bay, "_That—that would be great, really._"

"So you do want to be a wife!"

"_O-Only if it's to be yours…" _

Out of nowhere, Garry vanished and reappeared right in front of Ib. He bent down, "You'll have to wait then my _corpse bride_." He kissed her, and she felt that very same spark earlier—if not even more.

After that, Ib only felt a lingering of his warmth, and realized he had disappeared.

~X~

**a/n: Thanks for reading! This story's an unexpected multichapter fic so I'll see where it goes in the future. I may bump up the rating later on.**

**Disclaimer: the wonderful cover art I'm using belongs to the member Echoes in pixiv.**

_**Dedicated to my lil sis: cuz you made me like Ib/Garry and cuz you're a big Corpse Bride fan! :)**_


	2. Engagement Ring

~0~

She examined the ring on her finger; _silver metal band_ and a _small circle-cut diamond_. The ring twinkled and fit perfectly on her.

He was sly, building her up to that point. She didn't notice the ring on her finger at all until the next morning.

_He must have slipped it in during that last kiss… _She shook her head, still conscious (and recovering) about that part.

Her mind has been officially taken over by him… _Take off the ring! No… What if this is some kind of curse? What, are you serious? You! You had feelings for him! __**Me?**__ Did—did I? _

She rolled the ring around her finger, fidgeting.

_I'm engaged to Garry. _

She stopped fidgeting.

Saying it bluntly calmed her.

~1~

Her mom was the first to notice. "Ib darling, my…_what a nice ring._"

She picked up her chopsticks and rice bowl. "Thanks".

Her dad placed his bowl down and glanced her way. "From a boy, I take it?" he teased.

Ib looked up from her food, staring at her dad.

He softly laughed, "Kidding, just kidding… Really though, was it a gift from your friends at school? It's pretty expensive. Make sure you thank them properly."

"I kissed him," Ib quietly replied, drinking her cold glass of water.

"A boy; wonderful!" her mom piped up, rather too quickly.

"Oh, you…_kissed_ him," Ib's dad nodded carefully. He paused; his mouth shaping and closing as if he couldn't quite make out the words he wanted to say.

Her mom waited for her husband's reaction, and finally nudged him at the elbow, sending out cautionary signals.

"That's great that you're finally reaching out Ib, a boyfriend is…_healthy_ for you. We'd like to know more about him if you want to talk."

Ib pursed her lips, looking down briefly on the ring intertwined on her finger.

"He's a shy guy, he wants to meet you guys but he doesn't have the _guts_." She cleared her throat.

"Oh, tell him anyway that we'd _very_ much love to see him," her mom assured.

She nodded, "Yeah, I'll pass it to him."

~2~

Well, the truth is she doesn't have any friends at school, much less having a classmate giving her a ring as a gift. That route of deception is extremely unapproachable, therefore not even considered.

Honesty is—most of the time—the best answer.

_Hey mom and dad! Did you know my boyfriend is actually dead? Wait it gets better! I'm going to marry him in the afterlife! _

If she spewed that out her parents would definitely call her psychiatrist again. She trimmed a brief and sugarcoated version, just for her parents. At least it was '_part honest'_.

Now the only thing is…is to tell _him _somehow. _Take responsibility damn it! I'm your fiancé!_

She was currently rolling and lying on her bed—underneath the protective cocoon of her blanket.

"_Garry if you can hear me… I seriously need some kind of help… This ring…it's gotten my parents curious." _

She rolled over again, face buried on her pillow.

_This is ridiculous. He's probably already up there, and here I am disturbing him._

Her back suddenly felt cold; a soft breeze blowing past her. She immediately rolled back up, glancing around her room frantically.

"Garry? I'm serious…"

_This is really getting freaky…_

"_Heya!" _

She turned to the other side and saw him casually propped up by the wall, arms folded.

She took a minute to look at him, confirming him. _"You still haven't moved on…"_ She didn't really expect him to show up after the sound of her plea.

He nodded, already predicting her reaction. "I have a young bride that I need to take care of, here on this Earth."

"But Garry, it's not normal. You're dead."

His arms loosened up, eyes focused on another wall. "I know. _You don't have to say it..._ Anyway, don't your parents want to meet dashing ol' me?" He walked up, sitting at the edge of her bed.

Ib shook her head, "Forget it. _Wait_… Are you stalking me?"

"I thought it was a sweet thing to do, y'know, acting like your guardian angel or something."

Ib was quiet for a second, "Yeah I guess, _thanks_…but it doesn't excuse it from being creepy."

"It would be creepy from a random stranger, but we're engaged," Garry replied simply.

"Yeah…" She looked down on her ring, closing her other hand around it.

"So, you needed help on something. Dish it out." He stretched himself flat on her bed, lying next to her with arms tucked underneath his head.

"You're still ridiculous."

"Doesn't mean you love me any less," he smiled.

"Oh, _please_. By the way, you are the greatest actor I've ever met."

"How so? My feelings aren't feigned."

"It's exactly those genuine feelings that make me believe your acting. That ghost trick you've done when you went right through my knife—that was good. Then when I kissed you, you magically had a solid form."

"It's something you need to learn with the trade. Look, I needed you to stay so I could give you your ring. The rest was improvised."

"Oh gee, why couldn't you just have skipped over the theatrics and bent on your knees and asked me?"

"Because I figured you'd run away. I needed some foundation, no—I needed to know first if you liked me _that way_. I wouldn't want to end up looking like a fool to a girl I liked."

"You still look every bit of a fool to me."

"Well…you still accepted the _gift_," he took her ring finger and grasped it lightly.

"So I guess that makes us both fools," Ib laughed. Her laughter echoed on Garry's ears; the sound of gentle bells.

"_Yeah…_you have the prettiest laugh. It's my first time hearing you laugh." He stared deeply at her, she turned away, embarrassed. "You act as if I never laughed before."

"Well, for a long time you didn't, and I was getting worried."

Her heart skipped a beat. "You…you watched me all these years?"

He coughed, "_Well_ the cat's out of the bag now."

She punched him halfheartedly on the arm, "Creep!"

"_That hurt!"_ he dramatically groaned.

"Oh shut up." She couldn't suppress the grin on her lips.

He took her arm, holding it grimly. "I—I couldn't bear seeing you doing those things. Promise me you wouldn't harm yourself ever again." The sudden influx of moods made her emotions soft and pliable.

She decided to joke, "Makes our wedding date earlier, right?"

Garry didn't let go, "I'm not kidding around Ib, promise me!" He shook her arm, covering up her scars.

She decided to take a dive in his eyes for a while, swimming in those deep, lilac waters and losing herself in its world. She abruptly hugged him, wrapping her other arm close to his neck. _"I promise."_

He nodded; patting and soothing her back. "Atta girl".

~3~

She blubbered and cried like an idiot in front of him, until eventually he was able to rock her to sleep.

She'd never been that close to someone's arms before, not since she was three-years old and only sought her mother's love. He was warm and comforting, holding her tight with his arms that are merely part of his soul and bearing no more flesh.

When she woke up—in the middle of the night at twelve o'clock—she found a red rose in his place. He was gone, but she knew his presence would always be near hers. It was selfish, now she wanted him to always be by her side. She dreaded the day that he'd be gone entirely…

She breathed deeply; another panic attack had overridden her thoughts. Her feet guided her to the bathroom, and she flicked the lights open.

White, bright lights scattered across the bathroom—piercing her eyes harshly.

_What does Garry see in me? _

_He told me my laugh was pretty…_

_He told me I was brave, witty…_

_He told me I could make a good wife…_

_He gave me a rose…_

_He let me kiss him…_

_He proposed to me…_

_He cares for me…_

She splashed her face with cold water, and placed her rose in a toothbrush cup filled with water.

The scissors gleamed in the corner of the sink.

She reached out to it, grabbed it tightly, and tossed it to the waste bin.

~4~

School was the usual boring routine. Nobody really bothered her, nor socialized with her—suited her just fine—and they continue to play their parts and she continued playing hers; the school just one big stage for all of them to perform on.

Once the play was over, she stopped by at her one favorite class: Art.

"Mr. Guertena?" She knocked at the door.

"Oh Ib, what a pleasant surprise! How have you been feeling?" Mr. Guertena took off his black, thick-framed glasses and gestured Ib to sit down.

"Feeling much better actually, thank you for asking."

Ah, it's so good to be able to talk to Mr. Guertena again; her confidant in everything. He was this eccentric and old art teacher that's been around the school since its first establishment. He helped her become a better artist, listened to her problems, and gave her advice. She looked up to him as a grandfather figure, and to him she was the daughter he never had.

"You're welcome! You haven't been in school for 3 weeks; I was worried. I honestly wanted to stop by your house and check on your wellbeing, but I couldn't bring myself to intrude."

Ib quickly responded, "Know that you're always welcome to visit, Mr. Guertena. My parents know you, since I mention you around them."

"Ah, I pray you told them that I was just an old hermit that can brush a few colors?"

"Not even close. I told them that you were a sagacious man that has his celebrated art displayed throughout the whole world."

"My dear, you're just pulling my leg," the old man chuckled.

"You're too humble for your own good, Mr. Guertena." Ib pulled out her sketchbook, finishing a doodle that she'd started in class. She sat down and picked up her pencil, commencing to draw.

"I see you haven't exactly forgotten about art while you were sick. Was there a sudden inspiration in your life when you were gone?"

Ib didn't cut her concentration off from the lines she was constructing. "You could say that, he's more than inspiration though. He—he's—"

"_Reality?"_ Mr. Guertena finished.

"Yes, yes…he's my _reality_. He makes me happy."

"That's good to hear, good to hear."

Ib stood up and walked to Mr. Guertena's desk, ready to present her doodle for some needed analysis.

Mr. Guertena placed his glasses back on and held her sketchbook.

"_Great lines as always Ib… _My, he looks awfully familiar."

She looked intensely at Mr. Guertena, waiting for him to continue.

His eyes were closed, trying to catch that memory and face in the dusty recess of his mind. "Ah! He's one of my old students from a few years ago—a fan of my works. He was just like you in fact. Is he the one you're talking about?"

"Oh…yes he's the one."

Mr. Guertena placed her sketchbook down and took off his glasses. He held his gaze unerringly towards Ib.

"Ib, I hate to break this to you—but he died _many_ years ago."

"I know"

Mr. Guertena dropped his gaze.

~5~

The moment she entered her home she knew something was amiss.

"Mom? Dad?"

It was in the air, she felt it. Something was about to happen…

She turned to the kitchen.

A guy with blaring purple hair was having tea with her parents.

She dropped her bag.

"Hey darling, we're having a little talk with your…_boyfriend_," Ib's mom giggled.

Ib nodded calmly, "Yeah, just—just _talk_ and stuff. I'll be waiting." Mentally, she was breaking down.

Garry smiled stupidly and waved at her.

She looked Garry in the eye, and it almost killed him again—if that was even possible.

~X~

**a/n: This is a quick update, even by my standards. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading! **


	3. Wedding Dress & The Grave

~0~

She sat down on the living room couch, waiting for the _'talk'_ to finish. It was like waiting for something to finally burst—inside her that is.

Her ears caught bits and pieces of the conversation…

"_No, I swear I'll take great care of her." _

Garry

"_Where did you buy that ring? It's simply gorgeous!"_

Mom

"_I just want to make sure that we are on the same understanding concerning Ib's health…" _

Dad

She squeezed her knuckles tightly against her thigh; _what was this talk even about?!_

_I thought they were getting to know Garry, not making sure that he's my doctor or something! _

You know what she's really sick of? This constant worrying and _'oh, you better watch out for her, she might grab a knife and kill herself' _looks her parents suffocate her with. Just because she did it once or twice doesn't mean she's constantly suicidal.

Now it all makes sense! They see Garry as an opportunity to keep a tighter leash on her—_brilliant._ And how long would it take for them to notice that's he's not exactly breathing any longer, or he doesn't have a pulse? How could she explain _that_ to them? Why would Garry even bring this to himself—_to her?_

Ib looked up and decided to listen further…

"_Son, I want you to make sure that she's as calm and balanced as possible. Don't go making her upset; she's like a ticking time bomb ready to explode on a touch." _

"_Yes sir, I'm more than happy to oblige if it's for my dear's sake." _Cue trident gum commercial smile.

_Don't make me puke Garry, _Ib groaned.

She stood up and grabbed her bag, no longer able to stay and be a witness to all this.

~1~

The moment she barged out the door the moment the conversation ended; talk about uncanny.

Garry _breezed _towards her, just exiting the kitchen. "_Hey,_ see…it's over. I did what you wanted me to do; now there's no 'awkward boyfriend' lie." She turned around, he smiled. _Of course he did._

_When did I say I wanted you to do this? You imbecile! _

Her parents were right by the kitchen door, observing like two sentries on duty. Ib kept her mouth shut.

With an air of sweetness, she waved at her parents and pulled Garry towards the door.

"A word, _dear_," Ib irritatingly whispered.

Garry nodded quickly, but not before giving a final 'bye' to Ib's parent.

"_Oh, for the love of—" _She yanked the door knob shut, finally getting rid of her parents watchful eyes.

With raised brows, Garry inquisitively took a step forward. _"What the heck Ib, _is something the matter?"

She had her arms folded, jaws tight. "I never told you to meet my parents. This move was reckless."

"Did it _upset_ you? Me meeting your parents, is that it?" Garry was completely oblivious to her predicament.

"Yes it did…_okay?_ I told you to forget about this idea. You went charging ahead anyway." Ib began to pace back and forth; the wooden floorboards on the porch creaking. She didn't how to explain something that was already obvious—that she thought _was_ obvious.

"They're going to ask…_questions_, and ask you to be their lapdog or something. Just watch."

"Ib, _relax."_ Garry took her arm and made her face him. "Ever stop to realize that they only want what's best for you?"

"Well, they don't. Are you taking their side already; after just one talk?" Her eyes accused him.

"What? No, no… Look, _I'm sorry._ Are you happy now?"

A pause punctuated the air.

"I just don't want my parents to _know_…" Ib cautiously resumed.

"Oh…so this was about _my_ problem. Don't worry, I even asked for a glass of water; drank it all and everything. They didn't suspect jack." Garry took a deep breath, turning away from Ib.

"I know. I'm not exactly the _perfect boyfriend_ to show off to your parents. But a little bit of trust is all I ask."

Her forehead thumped; a loud, steady beat of drums that announced her headache. She held her forehead softly.

"Garry, don't be like this. I do trust you, but it's best if you don't appear to anyone else. This relationship isn't exactly _normal _as we all know."

She was being harsh, she realized, but that's the only way the message would come clear to him.

Garry didn't reply.

Ib slowly circled her arms around his back. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I care enough about _us _that I don't want other people interfering." Maybe she was imagining it, but she could feel Garry's warmth as her cheeks pressed flat against his back…or maybe not.

With little hesitance, he reached over, caressing her arms, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking; I made you worry."

"_No…it's probably just me being too selfish," _she murmured.

Garry smiled, "I didn't know you were the _clingy_ type." In actuality, Ib's last statement made his _heart _melt a little.

"Funny" Ib deadpanned. She released her hug, breaking contact. "Fine, no more hugs."

"Aw, why no more hugs?" Garry whimpered, already on a begging position.

"_Because_…" Ib whispered, leaning in, _"You listening?" _

He nodded, all serious and ready.

"_Alright, it's because—you're an __**idiot**__." _

"Oh"

He disappeared.

_Oops, I didn't mean to upset him. That guy takes things too seriously._

He reappeared again behind her. Before she could turn around, he lunged forward and hugged her fiercely.

"Oh what the hell! Garry!" She almost screamed, but she caught herself immediately. Her parents would have definitely rushed outside.

"_What are you doing?"_

"Hugging you…cuz I'm a _rebel."_ He hugged her even tighter.

"Cute"

~2~

At dinner her parents didn't mention anything, not about Garry or the talk or anything.

_Wow! Go mom and dad for cutting me some slack!_

She finished washing the dishes, and was about to turn off the lights when her mom shuffled in the kitchen door.

_Spoke too soon…_

Ib immediately ducked behind the kitchen counter. _"Please mom, go away," _she whispered to herself—or wished to God.

"Darling, you still here?"

Looks like she's not going anywhere… "Uh yeah, just—just picking up some debris on the floor… Look mom, we'll talk some other time."

"Can't you give me a minute, _please?"_ Her dearest mother urged.

She sighed, cursing at the floor, "Yeah, alright". Not that she has any choice.

"Swell! I knew you were going to be such a sport."

_Haha, 'sport'… _Ib rolled her eyes.

"So, I want you to follow me to your room…"

_Oh goody my room, where I want my privacy to be in. _

They traversed the hallway to Ib's room, and she swore she felt Garry's ghostly presence following behind.

"Ta-da!" Her mom gave a big flourish with her arms as she opened her bedroom door.

Her eyes immediately fixed itself to a big, white wedding dress lying on the middle of her bed. She turned behind her back swiftly, already checking to see if Garry had set this up with her mother.

He wasn't there or anywhere.

"I don't get it. Mom, I'm not getting married," Ib bluntly muttered.

Her mom laughed, "Silly Ib. No darling, I know you're not getting married. I just wanted to _officially_ pass my wedding dress to you."

_Oh, what a relief…I guess…_

"Seeing your ring and your boyfriend, I finally realized that you're growing up, and pretty soon you're going to get married. So, I decided to give you my wedding dress in advance. You're pretty familiar with it; you've seen it in pictures before…"

Ib walked up to the foot of her bed, overlooking the wedding dress.

Yes, she's _very _familiar with it. She's never seen it personally, but when she was a kid she always examined her parent's wedding photos, longingly looking at her mother's exquisite wedding dress.

It looked even more exquisite now that it was in front of her. She ran her fingers against the soft pearlescent silk, amazed.

"It's beautiful, thank you mom." She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

"It's my pleasure sweetheart. Now, try it on."

"_I—I can't."_ She was actually scared to try it on.

_It's too precious… _

"Oh but you must! I want to see what it looks like on the future bride."

Slowly, she took up the wedding dress; the fabric squeezed on her fingertips.

"Be right back."

~3~

Her mother had tears on her eyes when Ib stepped out of the bathroom.

"_Darling! You remind me so much of myself when I walked down that aisle. You look like an angel!" _

She looked at herself in the mirror, her mother beside her.

The reflection didn't look like her; it was of some other person's. No, it couldn't have been her…this person actually looked _beautiful._

Her mother smoothed her hair and dress. "I can't wait for your wedding day. I know most mothers linger onto their children's childhood, but not for me. I want you to be happy with someone."

The ring on her finger sparkled in the reflection; the light from her lamp hitting it at an angle.

Ib glanced over her shoulders, facing her mother, _"I'm sorry for everything…"_

It felt good letting that out… For years she's been such a burden, the least that she could do now was apologize.

"Oh, darling, there's no need for apologies and sadness. Right now it's all about you, just look at how gorgeous you are." Her mother picked up a brush and began to gently comb her shoulder-length brown hair.

She turned to look back at the mirror, "Still, I've been bitter to you and father…"

"As any normal teenager is at some point. _I know what's it like Ib; we're basically the same when I was your age." _

Ib gazed upwards, checking her mother's reflection in the mirror. Did she just hear her mother saying she was suicidal once?

Just when you thought you knew your parents…

"I never knew…but mom, you're always—_perky." _

That elicited a chuckle from her mom, "Unbelievable, right?"

"Yeah"

"Well, long story short I was a geek back then and almost everyone bullied me for it. Now that I think about it, it might have been more because of my low self-esteem… So, it made me really depressed, and you know—" her mother pretended to cut herself by moving her index finger over her wrist.

"Really, really sad business I associated myself with." Her mother shook her head, remembering what it was like—the _brutality_ and the _pain._

She was speechless.

"But there was a happy conclusion to my tumultuous teenage years. Guess!"

"Uh… Dad?" Ib presumed.

Her mom eagerly nodded, immediately elevated into Cloud 9.

"Your dad literally barged into my life and squeezed himself in, thus birthing you!" Her mother dreamily sighed.

Ib's face contorted into an appalled-half-sickened expression, _"Mom! No innuendos!"_

_Yeesh…that part I __**did not**__ want to hear, and thanks mom for scarring me. _

"Oh right, sorry dear. _Got a little caught up in the moment… _Anyway, moral of the story is that someone who cares about you will pull you out of whatever slump you're in, and if someone doesn't, _who cares?_ Pretend to smile and brace your life so at least you look like your mocking it."

By the end of the story, Ib's mother had her hair twisted and braided into a fancy up-do. The woman made magic with her hair.

_Pretty kick-ass, mom…that was quite the advice. _

Ib touched her bun, "How'd you do that?"

"_Stuff" _her mom teasingly replied.

Ib nodded, examining it at the sides. "Wow, I really look like I'm about to go down the aisle. _Not that I am_…" It released butterflies on her stomach just thinking about it.

"And who says you aren't? That boy seems enthusiastic," her mother remarked.

"More enthusiastic that you can imagine actually."

~4~

Everything sounds crazy; everything that has happened _is_ crazy. When she was lying down in her bed, she thought she had been dreaming everything, but she still felt the natural wrap of the ring around her finger, and _that_ she couldn't deny.

She slept peacefully enough that night.

Everything doesn't stop. Whether yesterday a war had ravaged a country or a baby is welcomed into the world; everything always turned from night to day, day to night. It just goes to show how the Earth doesn't cease moving on _any_ circumstance. Time would always move forward, not backward.

There was school in the morning, then when it was over, afternoon.

She packed her things into her backpack and hiked the small hill to their local cemetery. She has the rest of the sun and all of the coming night…

She walked up and down the gray and decomposing tombstones. The cemetery was clean and neat, not your typical horror setting of cobwebs and big black iron gates. It even has potted flowers lining the entrance, and freshly-painted white picket fences—very cheery—she's pretty sure the dead likes it better that way.

She walked and read rows of the stone engravings until finally she spotted the one that she was looking for:

_To whom everything was a joy_

_In heaven, where he rests_

She bent down and touched the soil, where beneath, his body slept.

"_I killed myself at a pretty early age, huh?" _

Ib kept her eyes down at the grave. She clutched her hands together in a loose grasp and began to pray.

Garry watched her carefully.

After another moment of silence, she finally stood up.

"I prayed that you could finally be happy."

"_I am happy. _I see you everyday—what else would _'happy' _be for me?"

"I don't know—_heaven." _

He shook his head, looking at his grave. "Not really where I'm _resting."_

"You deserve to be."

"What else do you want of me Ib? You know I can never really read you."

"I know I'm confusing at times, but now that I've really thought about it… I'm better off knowing that you're with angels in heaven."

He focused his eyes on her in a way that made her uncomfortable, "I can't see the difference honestly."

She sighed, "I'm far from being an angel."

"Tsk, I don't know about that_… _My vision's 20/20."

She might as well drop the matter; he's not going to be swayed.

"Sorry I didn't offer anything to your grave. I'm kinda low financially." Ib tried to buy a bouquet of blue roses in the flower shop before stopping by at the cemetery, but those things cost more than her allowance combined in a year.

"Nah, I was never into anyone leaving material things to the dead. What the heck would we do with those anyway?"

"It's a sign of respect_: 'we still remember you'_. I mean, even the dead would like someone to remember them, I gather."

"How come you know so much about us dead people?"

"It's not that hard. In life we wish to go to a better place after our death, unless you're a mass murderer or something."

"Fair enough, but what about cases like me—like _us?"_

"_Us? _We're just really _**awesome."**_ Ib formed a peace sign with her fingers, blinking her eyes at Garry real cutely.

He held his heart, _"Aw no,_ you're so cute I've fallen in love with you again!"

She laughed, "That's the most 'cute' you'll ever get from me."

"You know, that _grave offering_ still withstands…" he murmured, poking her shoulders.

"_Okay,_ so exactly what kind of offer do you want?"

Garry leapt—or rather floated—in the air, enthused about the endless possibilities presented to him.

"Still thinking about it…ah, how about a date on Lotus Castle?"

_That was quick—and pretty easy._

"Sure"

"_First…" _he drew his face closer to hers, "How about a free kiss?"

Ib looked down on the ground, "Really, on top of your grave?"

He shrugged, "I told you, I'm a _rebel."_

"_Pretty bold for someone without guts…"_

She pressed her lips in his.

Amazing…she could still feel the soft flesh of his mouth and the slight intrusion of his teeth and tongue.

_This is some serious ghost trick…_

He pressed harder into her mouth. She could just imagine how badly this looks like to someone who was just visiting the grave... Her hands gripped the collar of his jacket tightly.

She pulled back, breathing for air. _"You seem to forget, I still have working lungs…"_ Her face was flushed red, her blood compensating for the lack of oxygen.

"Right, _sorry…"_ he sheepishly mumbled.

She bit the bottom of her lip, "That should have counted as the grave offering…"

~5~

Mr. Guertena came to the graveyard with a colorful rose bouquet.

Garry was gone like a puff of smoke.

Ib stayed behind his gravestone, planting her feet squarely on the ground.

"I knew you'd be here…" The old art teacher bent down and placed the flowers beside the stone.

"_That must have cost a lot…"_

"Well it's for free if you grew them on your own."

Mr. Guertena stepped back and joined Ib, both of them staring absently on the faded epitaph.

"I could see him too, and I owe you an explanation." His hands were deeply buried in his khaki trouser pockets, mouth agape.

"He's _here_ because I'm letting him stay…in a painting."

~X~

**a/n: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always thank you for stopping by! **


	4. Of Lacking Hearts & Soul

~0~

"Mr. Guertena, I don't really find that surprising."

She and her mentor had a lot in common; not only in the fascination with the arts but also the mysterious realm of superstition. A crazy amalgamation of both could easily be pulled off by the one and only: _Weiss Guertena_.

Not to mention the fact that she and Garry were guinea pigs for his experiments but a few years ago.

Ib clutched her hands tighter, the wind brushing past her body that might as well have been part of the graveyard.

"I should have been frank Ib. Playing the old, forgetful cynic was unfair to you."

"Did you genuinely care for _us?"_ was her honest response.

Mr. Guertena stared past her—past her question—with deep brown eyes wandering off to the sky…_"Like my own."_

He placed the fresh bouquet of blue roses on the ground, kneeling down and rubbing the engraving with his withered painted fingers.

"I played along too. I was a kid; I thought it merely as a game so you shouldn't take the blame."

"A game that was too _dangerous… Too dangerous; it even cost him his life…" _Mr. Guertena took a deep breath, his hands tightening around his chest.

He wheezed shakily and blinked his eyes, on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Ib placed her hands around his shoulders, gentle and soothing.

"Mr. Guertena, it _**isn't**_ your fault. You need to know that."

Mr. Guertena took her hand and grasped it tightly, meaning to not let go any time soon.

~1~

For the next couple of days Garry was nowhere to be seen.

At first, Ib reveled at the widened space of freedom (she was without the stalker-like feeling she usually get from her boyfriend), but as the week progressed without his usual presence, she realized that she felt lost and alone without it.

She walked home from school, half-expecting (her stupid, giddy thoughts running amok) that he would be waiting in her room or in the steps of her front door ready to hug her and welcome her. She spent half of her time at school catering to these fantasies or dreaming about it at home, that work and other affairs were pushed to the background. She even noted how unhealthily obsessed she's been.

So it has been a week and today is currently Thursday, 10 PM at night…

Ib sighed, she was fidgety for some reason, unable to sleep under the sweaty shell of her bed covers.

She was very much disgruntled, hot, and sleepy. _Damn it! Why can't I sleep? _She tried to roll and twist about in hopes of finding a comfortable position in her bed but to no avail.

With an exaggerated wave of her arm, Ib peeled off the bedcovers and weakly stood up. She walked towards the bathroom and splashed yet another handful of cold water in her sickly face.

_How about a walk? I'm sure it would clear my head of __**him**__._

Deciding on it, Ib changed into her jeans and bundled herself up in her dad's military jacket. It smelled faintly of something sweaty and horrid and reminded herself that she will have to toss it into the laundry bin later on.

Walking out of her house, her feet instinctively took her to the path of Lotus Castle.

_Why am I going there? There's nothing there to go for… _She was frustrated at herself for still hoping Garry might pop up… Yet she still walked in that direction.

When she reached the entrance of Lotus Castle her heart even skipped a beat, which made her feet stop.

_Damn it girl, focus…_

Ib entered Lotus Castle and saw it to be empty… _just as expected. _

She took a deep breath and sat down in one of the many outdoor chairs.

Oddly, she was disappointed—_oddly._

_Who am I kidding? I need him!_

Ib rest her head over her arms and slowly succumb to crying. Her sobs were soft, but the tears were like a waterfall—cascading down in her cheeks in salty streams.

She was so lonely, she realized that.

_I'm so pathetic; I should be stronger than this. There's nothing to be sad about… So what is this feeling—this longing?_

She can't expect for someone to always be there for her, to save her from the depths of despair; no she need to learn how to pick herself up on her own, or she'll _always_ need someone to do it for her.

Ib's eyes slowly refocused, her head still flat on her arms. She wiped away the tears and stood up from her chair, sniffling.

_I—I need to find him. Do my own saving for once._

~2~

After her classes, Ib immediately reported back to the Art room, much to Mr. Guertena's surprise.

"Ib, what's the matter? You usually don't come in such a state."

Well, yes, considering this is the only part of the day that she actually enjoys, and there's also the matter about Garry, so she really wants to be here ASAP.

Ib walked forward to Mr. Guertena's desk, looking into his eyes with unshakeable resolve. "Mr. Guertena I'll get straight to the point: I want to go back to the painting."

Mr. Guertena was silent for a second, and then his expression changed into something akin to frost. _"Please kindly state your reasons." _

Ib nodded slowly, "You probably think this is crazy, and believe me I don't get it either, but something tells me that Garry needs me to be there with him." Her hands tightly clenched at the edge of his desk.

Mr. Guertena took his hand and wrapped it around Ib's, making them loose. "Yes, I realize that and so does he, but Ib he doesn't want you to go after him. You've done enough my girl, let's put the past behind our backs."

Ib recoiled away from Mr. Guertena like he'd caught the plague. "What do you mean he doesn't want me to go after him? _The nerve!_ He thinks he can just waltz into my life 8 years later, propose to me, and think he has the right to call me off! What a selfish _child!_ Did he think I can be so easily dismissed? Did he think my feelings to be meager that he can just toy with them, get the satisfaction, and leave? **Well he's wrong! **My feelings for him are too much it's making me crazy and obsessed. For the first time in my life I found happiness, and damn if it means my happiness is down in hell, I'll easily go to hell and bring it back."

She was bleeding—her fingernails had dug too deep into her arm—and she didn't realize it. Mr. Guertena stood up and fetched his first aid kit in the closet; seemingly ignoring the fact that she just spilled her heart out.

"_Sit down Ib." _

She complied quietly. She honestly doesn't have anything else to say anymore. The old teacher bent down and opened up the rusty tin box, taking out a bottle of alcohol, clean cotton, and band-aid strips.

"You've injured yourself. Now, how are you going to save him with an injury?" Mr. Guertena began to soak the cotton in alcohol.

Ib's heart lightened, her eyes wide and glistening, "Wait, so you're letting me _go?"_

"I really can't compete with your will my girl. He needs _you,_ and that is not a fact I can change."

"_So he is in trouble…" _Ib murmured.

"Yes, very much so. He loses a part of his soul every time he steps out of the spirit realm, which I've _encased _a bit of in the painting. You're meetings have not gone without consequence."

"But I thought he could do those things naturally! He said they were just tricks… If I had known I wouldn't have been so selfish of him!" Her body trembled, suddenly becoming cold.

Mr. Guertena patched up the band-aid in her arm, feeling his student's warmth lacking. "There was nothing natural to what he has done, but I think he did not regret his actions. You are important to him too Ib, he'd have done anything."

"_I would do anything too…_ Mr. Guertena, I'm ready."

"You're not scared?"

Sure she's scared—she's freaking terrified—but that won't stop her. Garry was willing to lose his soul, and the least she could do—_the least she could do…_

"Wait Mr. Guertena, how will I save his soul?"

The artist drew a long sigh, as if to breathe all their troubles away—if only that was possible. _  
_

_Forgive me you two…_

"_By completing the game." _

~X~

**a/n: So here's another chapter for you all, I hope it was interesting. I know it's too short, but I'll make it up in the next chapter where everything either rises or plummets in the plot—who knows (I haven't planned anything succeeding these events). You're support is deeply appreciated, and with that said, I hope to see this story through to the end with you.**


	5. The Foolish Artist

~0~

It was complete dead silence inside the art teacher's 1971 beetle, where it was taking her back to the place where it all started…and _end._

Ib pressed her forehead into the cool glass window, fogging it up as her lips exhaled softly. The sacrifice that she was about to do numbed her feelings, like she was no longer capable of thinking about any other matter. It would be a tremendous sacrifice, one that she cannot simply regret later once it is done. None of it matters though; it would finally bring a close to all her nightmares and to _his_ nightmares as well.

_We can be together…_

"Ib are you sure that you wouldn't want to say farewell or write a note at least to your parents? It would be a pretty quick stop, and we _do_ have some time." Mr. Guertena gripped the steering wheel tightly, all the while darting keen glances her way.

"I'm pretty sure the only one who's really bothered by this fact is you Mr. Guertena, not me… _But_ thanks for offering."

Outside, they passed Lotus Castle, and it made her sighs heavier.

Her parents wouldn't understand, or maybe it's because she _can't_ explain it. It was something that she was willing to do—simple. The _simple_ concept of it however is something her parents couldn't forgive (they wouldn't even try), because let's face it, no loving parents would ever forgive this _kind_ of decision.

Mr. Guertena did not press further into the matter, and kept his eyes fixed on the long stretch of road.

"No regrets, no turning back," he solemnly stated.

Ib closed her eyes, her senses gone cold 'cept the lulling vibration of the window against her forehead.

"_Yeah"_

~1~

_"Wait Mr. Guertena, how will I save his soul?"_

_The artist drew a long sigh, as if to breathe all their troubles away—if only that was possible._

_Forgive me you two…_

_"__By completing the game."_

_Her body at the moment went completely frozen—her muscles going stiff and unresponsive. Only her lips were able to move, if a little. "What exactly do you mean?"_

"_I was crazy—_**am**_ crazy for stepping too close into God's territory." _

_Ib clutched her hands, hanging ever so tightly to Mr. Guertena's words. His whole being was submerged deep in utter regret—the want for redemption underlying in his every word. _

"_Is—Is Mary still alive? Is that it?" She carefully whispered._

"_No, no that creation is long gone…you guys made sure of that. But something more sinister was in there all this time, and now it's trapped Garry in the painting with no chance of escape. It's either we let him stay there in limbo, or we finally let his soul go in peace." _

"_I know what I have to do, but Mr. Guertena, you have yet to specify this 'sinister' being."_

_Mr. Guertena looked longingly out into the distance—in that faraway place his gazes take him. _

"_This sinister being is none other than my late wife: Akane Guertena, or the 'Lady in Red' in my painting... She had suffered a traumatic death and she didn't want to let go—was so afraid of losing everything in this world. In her last moments she cursed out in bitterness as her life was taken away, and still I loved her so much. That's why I created everything—it took me many years of turmoil and research before my project reached fruition. Finally...finally I made a 'dent' in the spirit world; a loophole if you will in the unseen realm, made by the essence created in art. In my years as a young artist I greatly believed in life within paintings and sculptures. Within those planes of open canvas and the smooth yet unmoving block of marble; every chisel and every stroke has life given to them by the artist's hand. I was crazy enough to believe that this meant I could be God, and I played around within that mindset and let that philosophy drive me… Everything was all set, and I just needed to test it…You and Garry were capable candidates so I chose you both. In that experiment I made it very clear that no one gets out until another life is exchanged in its place. Once you killed Mary, another soul could be set free from the painting realm. Your soul was set free Ib, but not Garry's. His soul's been trapped ever since, whilst his body in the real world was empty, eventually no longer functioning...and dying."_

_Ib stood basically unmoving in her position. Even her bones were in shock—trembling as the truth poured out from Mr. Guertena's mouth. _

_Everything that Garry ever said about him was a lie. Ever since he came to meet her in her 17__th__ birthday…everything…was a…lie. Lies and lies and lies._

_You're too cruel you bastard! Had you just told me the truth…_

"_How—How does everything pertain to your wife? Back then…did you want to exchange one of our souls for your wife? Or maybe you got me and Garry so that both your wife and Mary could exchange in our place." She looked emotionless as her eyes locked into Mr. Guertena. _

_Mr. Guertena's lips quivered, "Yes…Yes that was the 'idea' initially, but everything changed once I realized how much of a fool I was." _

_Ib looked away from his eyes. "In a nutshell, I need to 'kill' your wife and finish the job." _

"_Yes…"_

"_Build a castle brick by brick; then tear it all apart… I didn't know artists were this crazy." Ib softly laughed. _

_The old art teacher gently placed his hand on Ib's shoulder, "Ib, you are a very strong girl. I am truly sorry...for having put you up to this. This is more than anyone could take. I will accept any punishment you would like inflicted upon me; I owe you this much." _

_The slightest impulse to slap the foolish artist crossed her mind. He's completely correct, this is more than anyone could take, and by rights she could have him thrown into lifelong imprisonment or an asylum for that matter, and yet she neither want to do those things. _

_Ib only smiled, "I only ask that you forgive yourself Mr. Guertena."_

_Without you, how could I ever have met Garry?_

~2~

"Okay, so the rooms are just how it was the last time. Look around the museum if you need to if you've forgotten the layout. _Everything else besides…_well I can only imagine, and I can imagine _quite_ a lot."

They had reached the closed down art gallery, and Mr. Guertena was frantically piping out last-minute advices and information.

"Oh it's no problem, I've memorized everything. The reoccurring nightmares were useful after all." Ib gave Mr. Guertena a rather humorous toothy grin.

"You're smiling so casually in this hour? You have to be crazy."

"Like teacher like student! I've learned from the _best_ after all."

The art teacher found nothing to reply with, and only shook his head.

Ib went ahead and unlocked the museum's doors. The keyhole was thick with rust as was the key, showing visible signs of abandonment and weathering.

She gently pushed the doors open, standing from the outside looking in…_ Dust_, _pale walls_, and _shadows; _those were all about her eyes could see.

Treading lightly—feeling the weight of her foot in each step—Ib managed to reach the front desk.

It was dusty as hell, and cobwebs served as the only pamphlets. It was the only thing showcasing the museum now, so it wasn't entirely an exaggeration.

She went behind the desk and felt a sudden sense of accomplishment.

_Take that receptionist! I went behind the desk!_

Mr. Guertena walked inside and seeing Ib, leaned in the counter. "A ticket please."

Ib gathered particles of dust as the ticket and handed it to Mr. Guertena. "Hope you enjoy your stay!"

"That smile of yours—I can't tell if it's genuine or not sometimes. No matter, it eases me to think you can still be positive."

Her smile slowly faded, "I try to make it as real as possible. Anyway, let's go. Garry's waiting."

Pretending is what she's always been good at.

It didn't take long for them to reach the designated painting. It was the only painting left; the rest of it were either donated or sold off to different institutes or clients. The gallery then became a void; it's epicenter the _'Fabricated World'_ painting.

Ib haltingly stopped her tracks right in front of the domineering work of art, and turned around to face the painter.

"To tell you the truth, I had thought the museum would be bigger. When I was a kid it seemed that way."

Mr. Guertena sighed, "As you grow older things gets smaller and smaller. All the room that was left for imagination in your mind gets taken up by cold hard facts. Such is life; _we grow up, _and it's a pity."

Ib let that one sink in for awhile. "I guess that's why I'm more scared now. Because I _understand_ what's at stake—that it isn't just a nightmare, but _real_ danger that I'm about to face." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_I'm here now; did you really expect I would just forget about you?_

Her fingers brush past the canvas slightly, and when she opened her eyes, Mr. Guertena was no longer beside her.

~3~

Unlike last time, the transition from the real world to the "painted world" wasn't as dramatic. She blinked a couple of times to make sure she wasn't just seeing things.

"_Mr. Guertena?" _Her voice was smaller, and she realized it was because she was too tense. She's surely alone now, and here she is back again…_to this place._

Taking a deep breath, she firmly walked down the dimly lit hallway…

_Would I have to face puzzles again? They're such a pain in the ass. _

While walking, her eyes landed upon a piece of white paper in the middle of the floor. Quickening her pace, she bent down to observe the mysteriously-placed object.

Blood-red words began to scrawl itself across the paper:

_**I KNOW WHO YOU ARE IB…**_

_**JUST ASK…**_

_**I WILL HELP YOU…**_

Her heart began to pound harder and harder as each letter appeared on the piece of paper. With sweat-soaked fingers, she picked it up, hoping not to regret it later on.

"Okay, if you know me then you would know that I _hate_ liars. If you break your word I'll _burn_ you, got it?"

Not seconds after she threatened the unknown "helper", more words appear on the paper:

_**A LITTLE TRUST BETWEEN US WOULD BE NICE…**_

_**YOU HAVE MY PROMISE…**_

Having something as shady as this object is bound to have some consequences, but her gut instinct told her to keep it around for now.

"Can you tell me where Garry is? He's here somewhere."

_**HE IS HERE…**_

Ib waited the answer to prolong, but a single phrase is all that was given to her.

_Well, thank you for giving me the obvious. I should have known that this was too good to be true. _

Having wasted enough time, Ib tucked the piece of paper into her bag.

She reached the end of the hallway and found no doorway leading to an exit…

_Ookay… _

She placed her hand on the solid wall and banged at it for a good minute, trying to check for a hidden door, or find if it was at least hollow.

One fact was clear: it was a thick slab of wall—no way of getting across it by any orthodox means. Not that there was anything orthodox about the situation.

Almost to the point of her limit, Ib fell to the ground and hugged her knees. She bit her lip as her breathing slowed down.

_Calm down…calm down. This is just another puzzle, figure it out. _

She stood up and walked back to the opposite end of the hallway, looking around closely for a clue.

_I must have missed something…_

Finding absolutely nothing, Ib opened her bag and betted her last resort to her unknown helper.

"You need to help me... _Please_, where's the exit?"

_**IT'S HERE…**_

"But, _where_ is it in this hallway?" She almost went up and tore the paper in half.

_**HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE **__**HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE**_…

_Shit! _

Ib frantically threw the paper into the ground, watching as it became blank again.

She stared at it for a long time, until an idea finally came to her.

_Wait—did it mean…that the exit was…__**it? **_

Any ideas at this point were more than welcome.

"Hey, can you open the exit?"

_**YES…**_

The piece of paper immediately transformed into a door—a door completely situated on the ground—and it opened up for her.

_I can't believe I was actually right. _

She slowly went closer and peeked at what's underneath: _pitch black._

_Jump in? _

It looks to be that way, and like hell was she going to stay over here.

Ib jumped into the only exit—watching as the door above her slammed shut.

_So dark…where am I going? _

Rather than falling, she felt as though she was slowly floating down…

Slowly, slowly she landed upon another room…a more familiar room.

Well, there was the weird couch in the middle so it was somewhat familiar, and also there was Garry, sleeping soundly on it.

~X~

**a/n: Clearly I am not a good puzzle strategist-thingy for video games. If ever I work on the gaming industry, planning the puzzle parts is a no-go for me; take this chapter as proof. **

**So here is another chappie for you Ib and Garry lovelies. I hope it was enjoyable for you. I tried to live up to last chapter's promise of a bigger plot, and heck did I go big. Throughout the next chapter or so I'm going to stretch the back story presented here and hopefully make it less convoluted. *sparkly smile* :D **

**Also, thank you so much for all the positive feedback! You don't know how giggly and happy I feel when you guys like my crappy writing. You're support is deeply appreciated. **


	6. The Subtle Truth

~0~

Ib landed softly on the ground; just a couple of feet away from the man she's been worried about for over a week. She took a measly step forward, not sure of what she's hesitant for.

_He's literally right there—sleeping so comfortably! _She felt that all her worries had been spent for nothing. She sighed in relief for the first time in ages, and finally dared to touch his leg.

"_Garry!"_ Ib shook him up slightly. The man continued to snore loudly.

"Garry!" This time she gave him a violent shake in his legs and still this did nothing. She slumped backwards on the couch and nestled in what little space there was left.

Come to think of it, how does she know that it was the real Garry? Ib looked at his sleeping figure and saw there was absolutely no way of telling if it was a replica. It was Garry in all his physicality: There were the awkward purple highlights lying atop his head, like the legs of a spider's. Nothing on his face had been scratched up or bruised, and he still adorns his fashionable visual kei clothing. He even looked like he was breathing in his sleep—

_Wait! _

"Spirits don't sleep!" Ib thought aloud. She began to look around the room, fearing that this could have been a trap. She suddenly felt very foolish for dropping her guard so easily.

_I have to remember that I'm inside a ruthless game now; anything could be set up as a trap._

Her eyes caught on something on the wall…

_**A kiss is the key**_

_A kiss is the…key? What does that…_she turned around to examine the 'Garry copy'.

_Oh...kiss that—thing? What if it bites out my lip? I'll have to take that risk!_

Slowly and unwillingly, Ib bent down to plant her kiss…

"_Ib is that—is that you?" _

She opened her eyes and stared face-to-face with an awoken Garry—or was he Garry?

"Yes, it's me. I've come here to rescue you as I've been kindly informed by Mr. Guertena of your imminent destruction," Ib flatly explained.

He sat up, suddenly frantic. "What? No! No, that man is lying! He's trapped you here in the painting again! He's mad! Ib, why did you believe him?!"

Ib stood up defiantly, "Garry you must have been here for too long. Mr. Guertena's the one that told me everything. He wants me to save you, and that's what I'm doing. Now please lead the way and let us all remain calm."

Garry shook his head, his face wrinkled in resignation. "No…there's no escaping. We're both trapped here now. That man's a wiser manipulator than I thought he was, seeing that he finally got you too."

Ib's head ached; being burdened with so many truths then only to find out that they had been lies—dirty lies coupled with a dirtier purpose. It made the drumming in her head more agonizing and unbearable.

She was going to go insane again no matter how hard she fight it.

"Then, can you please clarify things for me…would you? Or are you just another lie? Another trap?" Ib's mouth began to take a harsher form, her heart becoming colder.

"Ib, I'm Garry's spirit. I've locked myself here in this room right after your spirit escaped 8 years ago in hopes that you may find me and free me. Up until now I've been safe from Weiss Guertena's evil schemes. It would seem that we never really did escape from this nightmare…"

"You can't be Garry's spirit! If you've been locked up in here then who was the one that's been with me?" Ib suddenly felt the stab of an ice-cold knife piercing through her heart. The pain was terribly tangible, and it melted all her feelings and thoughts into one condensed, burning sensation.

Had everything been a **LIE**?

Garry felt hopeless as he looked at Ib, "What you met must have been a fake. I don't know what he's done but—but _I'm sorry if he had hurt you."_ Garry stood up and walked towards her, he stopped in front of her in uncomfortable indecision.

Ib's voice was thin and lifeless. "No he didn't hurt me. He _loved_ me…_which is why it hurts the most."_

It took everything in her will to look up to his face and plead, _"Could you…could you kiss me?" _

Garry wiped away the tears in her eyes. "It's a crime for beautiful girls like you to cry, so please don't cry." He held her face gently and kissed her lips like a feather softly falling to the ground—subtle yet sweet.

It became easier to breathe for Ib once their lips parted. She felt as if they had just performed a secret seal that made their bond stronger; their love a reality, not an illusion. It sent butterflies to her stomach, a warm tinge on her chilly cheeks.

"That wasn't your first kiss, right?" Garry asked, interrupting her state of ecstasy.

_Huh? _

"What does it matter?" Ib snapped, irritated at the question.

"Well, was _it?"_ he teased.

Ib rolled her eyes, "No it isn't; your doppelganger already took it FYI."

The information hit Garry hard like a brick.

"Anyway, even if it was it really wouldn't be my 'first kiss' as I've already kissed you when you were sleeping."

"Right, well that closes the matter." Garry mumbled. She might as well have just kicked him.

Not being completely insensitive, Ib stretched her 'comforting' skills by a bit. "It did felt like my first, _real _kiss though. I—I felt gooey inside." She actually blushed just by rethinking about it.

Garry blushed as well, _"I guess they're still plenty of firsts for me to take."_ He scratched his cheek in a contemplating manner.

Ib's face exploded in red at the blatant implication, "How about you think about our way out of here instead of thinking about taking my first time! You PERVERT!"

Garry looked thoroughly appalled at the accusation. "No, I was thinking about a first date, _but if that's what you want…" _

Ib had never felt danger as strongly as in that moment.

~X~

**a/n: A short and sweet candy of a chapter, just like Ib and Real!Garry's kiss. I wanted to take a breather from last chapter; it was dense and packed with a crazy amount of information that I felt it suffocated the rest of the story. Hopefully this chapter's briefness balanced out last chapter's volume. **

**Need not worry reader! If you're confused or simply need a bit of a refresher on the story so far, I gladly took up notes on the previous chapters and condensed key notes on each. Enjoy.**

ch. 1 notes

_-garry first appears on ib's 17th bday_  
_-is confirmed as a mere ghostly apparition but can manipulate his state of matter_  
_-says his death was caused by suicide due to depression after the game_  
_-came back to propose to ib/professes his undying love_

ch. 2 notes

_-mr. guertena first appears as ib's art mentor_  
_-confirms that he knows garry as an ex-student & that he is dead_

ch. 3 notes

_-ib visits garry's grave_  
_-mr. guertena reveals that he hosts garry on his painting_

ch. 4 notes

_-ib reveals that she remember her time with garry in the painting_  
_-mr. guertena pretended that he didn't remember anything concerning his experiments beforehand_  
_-ib reaffirms mr. guertena's compassion _  
_-ib comforts mr. guertena, stating that she was part to blame for participating_  
_-garry disappears for a week, ib senses trouble_  
_-ib requests mr. guertena to return to his painting to meet garry_  
_-mr. guertena tries to dissuade ib on her decision, but ib persists_  
_-mr. guertena reveals that garry is in trouble, he loses a part of his soul every time he sets foot outside the_  
_spirit realm/painting and thus his soul has weakened_  
_-mr. guertena reveals that the only way to save his soul is to "complete the game"_

ch. 5 notes

_-ib intends to sacrifice herself for garry _  
_-mr. guertena explains that akane guertena has trapped garry in the painting with no chance of escape._  
_-mr. guertena further explains the full history of his motive: his wife akane guertena died miserably and so he_  
_madly created a portal in the spirit realm through his painting, made possible by life essence in art. _  
_-the rules he made states that another life was to be exchanged in order for the spirit to exit the painting and_  
_thus be alive in the real world. He chose garry and ib as his test subjects and his intention was to exchange _  
_their souls for his wife's and mary's in the painting. _  
_-what happened with ib and garry though was that they defeated mary and thus could exchange one of their souls, but _  
_not the both of them. ib's soul was exchanged and thus she was safe in the real world, but garry's soul never _  
_escaped the painting, leaving his body empty to die in the real world. _  
_-ib and mr. guertena enters the old art gallery_  
_-ib enters the painting realm through the 'fabricated world' painting_  
_-ib comes across a piece of paper which opened up the next path._


	7. Black & White

~0~

"Of course that's not what I want!" Ib cried out, completely distraught at the question.

Garry cracked up to the point when he had to double over and gasp for oxygen.

"_W-What's so funny?" _

Garry wiped a tear in his eye and succeeded (partially) at composing himself. "Look, it's just that I'm happy at the sudden growth of our relationship. I've locked myself here for 8 years and I thought things would remain stagnant—nothing new ever happens when you lock yourself up y'know. Who would have known that when I woke up you'd just fall in love with me without me actually doing anything?" He smiled warmly at her and affectionately rubbed her hair, "It's really cute."

Ib lightly brushed off Garry's hand, "I'm not nine years old anymore."

Garry chuckled at Ib's response, "I can see that, but you're still cute."

Ib turned away from him, "I wonder how much of that clone was real. Obviously it was still just a clone, but some of the things he said—well they felt very _real_ to me."

It almost broke her heart to hear that it hadn't been the real Garry. She risked everything to be here and rescue him…only to find out that what she'd been chasing was the mere shadow.

"Did he really love you that much?" The tone of his voice was that of plain curiosity.

Ib dropped her gaze to the ground. She was losing control again, the tears were welling up inside.

"I couldn't tell you for sure, but from what I could tell you; he _did." _

Now at this moment she started remembering the stupidest thing: their _proposal._ Her immediate instinct was to look down on the ring on her finger…the engagement ring composed of a simple metal band and small circular diamond. It sparkled brightly in every angle, like a small drop of tear was encased inside. This much had been real at least.

_Foolish of me, had I just ignored the random phone call that night none of this would be happening. I would still be at home, not caring for anyone else. Would that have been better than all of these feelings? _

"I'm really sorry Ib. I didn't know—"

"Well it doesn't really matter anymore. At least I knew the truth sooner."

_What would he have done had we continued our plans? Had I figured out the truth? Would he have killed me then? _

The thought troubled her.

"_By the way…_ I'm sorry I forced you to kiss me. It was completely rude of me to have you do that when I was vulnerable. I'm feeling a bit better now, thank you."

The only thing keeping her from completely losing it was the fact that the real Garry was here. No matter how her feelings contradicted, she still felt safe around him.

Ib brushed her skirt and rolled up her cuffs, "Well, shall we move on then?"

_Focusing on the here-and-now is the most important thing. If I can't pull it together, everything else would fall apart._

Garry nodded firmly, following Ib. "There's the door over there that should open up to a hallway. I don't know if he's changed anything since then but the next couple of rooms should be relatively safe."

"Hmm, do you know where the Lady in Red is? We should head there."

"You mean that crazy painting that tries to eat you? _Why?"_

_Well supposedly she's the one that's keeping you trapped here, but that's not the case anymore…_

"We could get some leads from her." It wasn't a complete lie, and she's their only lead so far.

Garry was reluctant of Ib's awry decision, but decided to go along with it. "Well ok boss, we'll head to her direction then."

~1~

As they walked further back in the fabricated art gallery, Ib experienced the bittersweet case of nostalgia.

Nothing had changed at all; everything was exactly as they had left it from 8 years ago. The only thing missing were the monsters that roamed some of the sections (much to their relief). This had been her childhood, and within it were a plethora of memories that she uncovered each step that they took.

"Do you still have some of that candy?" Ib suddenly asked.

"Yeah I think so." Garry reached from one of his pockets and took out a kiwi-flavored one. "Careful though, these candies are 8 years old."

Ib eagerly unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. "Very nice," she enjoyed her sweets as much as the next kid. The candy was ice cool and hard in her mouth, and the kiwi flavor had a slight musty taste to it.

Garry smiled. "Glad to see you actually eating it. You didn't eat the one I gave you last time."

"I forgot about it until I came out of the painting. I ate it then—and it calmed me down." Events after the first game were pretty much hazy and distorted to her, but the candy one persisted within the years.

"I'm glad to hear that Ib."

They were passing through the hallway where she saw Garry for the first time—almost dead. She remembered how she saved him and the feeling of relief once he was okay. They were strangers, but they had the advantage of being the only one there so they already had a mutual connection. She often wondered what her journey would have been like without him…_awful, terrible, not possible, _to name a few.

"_We're here…"_ Garry announced.

The room that they entered was the most unrecognizable thus far. She could vaguely remember it as the place where the Lady in Red popped out for the first time.

Every painting on the room had been torn down and was lying on the ground in ripped pieces. All the walls had been scratched up grotesquely; some even had blood splattered over them...they looked quite fresh.

The blood splatters all lead to one point in the center of the room: The Lady in Red.

"_My, my..._I didn't expect guests! Come a little closer my darlings, its dark in here and I have poor eyesight."

"Not a chance! Ib, stay behind me!" Garry rushed in front of Ib, protecting her.

The Lady in Red cackled, "You think _me_ the threat? In fact it's quite the opposite my darling. Had I been your enemy I could have easily killed you in your little room already. I kept you safe by dealing with the rest of those pests myself—as you can see it's a _little bit bloody _in here… You have me to thank for, so how about it?"

Ib replied first, "Then who _is_ our threat, if not you?"

The Lady in Red smiled widely, "If it isn't the little miss heroine. _My,_ you've grown into quite the fair young woman over the years haven't you? Came back to have a small visit in the ol' art gallery have you? Nothing has changed really. I hope you're having fun, because I'm not."

"Cut the crap! Tell us how to get out of here and you'll be spared." Garry didn't want to believe any of what comes out of that woman's mouth.

"_Patience,_ _patience,_ my darling...you've had _safe_ 8 years in here, just give me 8 more minutes to explain to you the situation. Here's the real deal: I'm not your enemy. As much as you two would want to kill me, doing that would give you nothing, and certainly not the way out of here."

Ib lowered down Garry's defenses, "We should listen to her. We're running out of options _and_ allies. I think she was telling the truth about her protecting you. For now, we'll just listen."

The Lady in Red coughed slightly, "Have we gotten over our trust issues now?"

Garry breathed out slowly, "Alright, 8 minutes for you to talk start now. Whatever you say will be taken into consideration."

"Goody! Where should I start: the part where my husband stabs me to death or the part where he's completely hell-bent on becoming a god?" Her smile was based purely on derision.

Ib felt sick to the stomach at the revelation, "I—I'm sorry, _Akane."_

The Lady in Red's eyes widened for a second; a window to her true emotions opened up briefly, and it showed clearly that it was glistening sorrow.

The name _Akane_ was from a long time ago—a time when she was still human.

"Akane…yes that was my name, it's been quite a while since anyone called me by that. If you know it then my husband must have told you. From now on throw away anything that he has told you because they are _**lies**_. As you know this world was made by him. Well, he got carried away to say the least and my 'interfering' resulted to my untimely death. This painting world—as it stands—is a portal for spirits, but he wanted it to be more than that…he wanted the spirits to overtake the living, and him the god of that new underworld."

The Lady in Red dramatically sighed, clutching her hands near her chest. "It all sounds so ridiculous now that I think about it, but that's the grim reality."

"Artists are crazy like that, but most of us don't descend to that level of insane." Ib couldn't believe that all the truths had been buried down to this place of horror, and that all the lies had been in the real world. It was irony at its best.

"We believe you_._ Would you happen to know our way out of here—_or better yet_—a solution to end all this madness?" Garry sought to end all this nonsense. Hearing all this just gave him more ammunition against Guertena, which means the more he wanted to wring his neck.

"I hate to put this kind of burden into young children such as yourselves…but there are two options that could finally conclude this tragic tale. What happens next would depend upon your choice. The first choice would be to free my spirit. After Weiss killed me I came back as a spirit to go to his painting in order to impede his deranged plans; my own spirit protects this portal. Although he can control the art gallery himself, he can't touch the portal because of me. Freeing my spirit would finally destroy this painting world and my protection on the portal would still be in place. Second choice would be to simply kill my spirit. Doing this option would result to what my husband wanted. The portal would tear up, thus releasing the spirits into the real world."

"The hell! Of course we'd pick the first choice!" Garry cried out immediately. Not many things were black and white to him, but the choices that were presented before him were.

"There's something you're not telling us. What are the consequences?" Ib interceded.

_Where's the grey spot in this moral compass? _

The Lady in Red's expression deepened for the first time, "You will die on the first choice and you will get to live on the second."

~X~

**a/n: This one was a quick update because my mind has been racing with a lot of ideas for this story. It's good to feel like I have an idea for the ending, but I've decided to let you guys decide! Yay! I'll open up a poll with the two choices you guys just read. The choice with the most votes would obviously be their decision. The poll would be open up now but I'm not going to force you guys to start voting immediately-in fact the next chapter would probably be another "breather" chapter and should shed some more light on the "consequences". ****How the story "ends" would be up to you guys.**

**I'm a big fan of video games that gave players the freedom of giving them multiple choices that would lead to a specific ending. As you can see I was inspired by that. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading yet another chapter of Corpse Bride, I hope you enjoyed it—if not…then thanks for reading this far at least… :/**


	8. Divide & Kiss

~0~

It has been approximately six hours since they left the room of The Lady in Red. The feeling of lead was pumping through their veins, slowly and sickly, and now they were just completely crushed—drained of their emotions except of a bubbling pit of despair boiling within the bowels of their stomach.

Yes, they were tired of being unwittingly thrown back into the game that they had wanted to escape for the most part of their lives. Except now the game isn't just a _game _anymore—it's become more "complex" and excessively convoluted—the game has morphed itself into a living hell that's threatening to consume every bit of life left on earth. And somehow the entire world's fate hinges on the choices of two teenagers who have barely grown into two wilting weeds in the world; rarely having a glimpse of the sun in all their lives.

Ib spoke up hastily and broke the quietude that had lasted for the past two hours, "I never rode on a rollercoaster before, mostly because the whole 'plummeting down to the earth thing at over 80 miles per hour' didn't appeal to me much. Then again, maybe it's because I was a bitch to my parents and never let them take me to places." She sighed heavily, as if little by little a rock was flattening her to the ground.

Garry built upon Ib's example, "I was afraid of fires. It's called having _pyrophobia_. Anytime I saw fire or a resemblance of it I froze and just shut my eyes real tight. My mama used to get worried so bad that she'd just stay by my side until I loosened up; meanwhile she'd soothed me and caress my back. As I grew up a little more and through some therapy, I eventually got over my pyrophobia; still, I carry with me a lighter to remind me of it and every time I give it a little flick and watch as the spark light up into a tiny flame, it gives me confidence in myself to get over whatever fear I was fearing at the moment." Garry took the lighter out of his pocket and flicked it, producing a bright and warm flame that seemed to glow more than it should.

Ib was touched, she was drawn to the fire and Garry. "Well, you beat me. I was Prissy Little Ib and you were Fire Conquering Garry."

Garry shrugged, closing the lighter and safely tucking it back to his pocket. "I'm only telling you the interesting bits."

The room became silent again, interrupted only with their breathing and the ubiquitous presence of a doomsday clock ticking off the seconds. They were pushing it off as much as they could, but they had to face it sooner or later. Their response was to be given to the Lady in another two hours, a time so terribly scant it equaled to a second to them.

Their minds had been racing and looping over one another from the past six hours prior, and it untangled themselves through random outbursts and conversations. They have yet to mention to each other what the other was really thinking and planning.

Garry's eyes rose from a contemplative gaze on the floor and fixated onto Ib. "If we do this, we do this together, that's all that really matters in the end." His eyes gently conveyed a look of hopeful resignation.

Her mouth twitched, "I suppose you're right, but…"

_**I DON'T WANT TO DIE! **__I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO DO AND THINGS I HAVE YET TO DO! WHY? WHY? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?_

Her hands trembled and she wrapped them together, containing her feelings. With her hands roughly intertwined she felt the solid scratch of the ring against her fingers…

_Why can't I be happy? Why couldn't the one thing that brought joy to my life happen? _

"We're cursed you and I. We were doomed to die the moment we stepped into this painting. I can hardly find anything worth hoping for in that."

"There's hope for the other people we save. They get to live. It's an honorable sacrifice Ib," Garry replied firmly. His resolve had hardened.

"It's good for you then. You've found your purpose. Truth is the only thing that ever came close to a purpose in my life was my engagement."

Garry's tensed expression twisted into something of sadness and regret. "I'm sorry Ib…but would you give me that ring?"

The nature of his reply to her and the soliciting gesture of his hand was the ultimate insult to her injury, and she almost went and flat out bawled like an infant in front of him.

_You're too cruel!_

Hatred was the thin veil covering her weakness.

"_A-Are you done?" _Strands of her hair masked her face which was beginning to bode something nasty.

"What?"

"Are you done pretending that I'm some little kid you get to comfort and protect? You think that when we die together you've fulfilled your responsibilities as a hero? How about you start thinking a little bit about my feelings and realize that all this time I've been here was all because of you. As it turns out you feel the same way about me, so why are you suddenly giving up on us?"

In essence she wanted them to live, not die.

"Have you gone insane as well? If we get to live not only are we going to betray the Lady in Red who's been in our side all along, but what you're saying is—" Garry shook his head in exasperation"—what you're saying is that you're siding with Guertena; is that it, Ib?"

"Oh, damn it all! You deliberately ignored my point—you stupid _fool_—" Ib grabbed Garry's collar by the hands and forcefully kissed him—clashing her teeth with his and sending her tongue in his mouth. Only when her lungs burned to the point of pain did she resurfaced from his lips.

"T-Take t-that!" Ib gasped.

Garry had to steady his breaths before replying, "You know I never mentioned that I was giving up on us. Also, I asked for your ring because I wanted to do the proposal myself before we made our decision."

"W-What?!" Ib exclaimed loudly.

_Did I just make a fool of myself? Ugh! _

Her face brightened up and transformed into a red color that rivaled even that of a rose's.

_Okay, I will not talk to you lest I do something even more idiotic…_

Ib turned around away from Garry, only to be caught in her right arm by his strong grip.

"We're not done yet…"

Her mind went blank once Garry pulled her in for another heart-melting kiss. She didn't notice that he had also pulled her ring off and was stunned for second when he waved it in front of her with jubilant mirth.

"_G-Give it back,"_ was all she could muster to utter after being subjected to his lips twice.

"First, tell me you weren't serious about what you said earlier."

"I'm serious…don't you want to stay like this? Happy and alive together—get married?"

Garry held her hands tightly, rubbing her fingers tenderly. "That's a future that would cost too much for just us. But, the answer to your question: yes, I would want to stay like this."

"Then—" her hopes rose up.

"Nope, still against it."

Finding a compromise between the two of them would probably take the better part of the last two hours.

"Can I give you another kiss to convince you?"

"Hmm…"

~X~

**a/n: It makes me happy when I end a chapter in a good note. Fluffy IbxGarry for life! :3 Next chapter, well...we'll just have to see won't we? Go ahead and vote on the poll on my profile. Winning option would be "the" choice and the poll would remain open until I write the next chappie.**

**'Till then you guys, and thank you for reading! **


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